


You Gonna Set Me on Fire

by involuntaryorange



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Crack, Holster and Ransom are well-meaning but oblivious, Humor, M/M, Playoff Beards, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/involuntaryorange/pseuds/involuntaryorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holster and Ransom are awesome captains. That's why they're determined to figure out what's wrong with Bitty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Gonna Set Me on Fire

**Author's Note:**

> A bajillion thanks to hockeytrash/dracoxlovesxharry for patiently explaining NCAA and NHL scheduling to me and answering a thousand other stupid questions I had because I know essentially nothing about hockey. And for betaing. You should check out her [Hockey Shit for Check Please! Fic](https://hockey-trash.tumblr.com/post/148070453847/hockey-shit) because she knows her hockey shit.

Holster and Ransom are awesome captains. Not only do they keep team spirit up through copious application of Kegsters, they also make sure to spend time checking in with each member of the team on a regular basis (Ransom even has a spreadsheet).

That’s why they notice something different about Bitty in late March.

“Bro, what’s wrong with your face?” Holster asks one morning at post-practice breakfast. Bitty is falling asleep in his scrambled eggs but his head pops up at that.

“Hm?”

“What’s wrong with your face?” Holster repeats. “It’s all red.”

Bitty brings a hand up to his cheek and rubs it, his eyes widening. “Um, gosh, you know it must be— my eczema! Playoff stress and all that.”

“I didn’t know you had eczema, Bits,” Ransom says, trying to peer at Bitty’s skin.

Bitty hunches away from Ransom, hiding his cheek in his shoulder. “Yep! You know, just one of the curses of those Bittle genes!”

“You doing okay?” Holster thought he’d been keeping tabs on the mental state of his team, but maybe he was wrong.

Bitty smiles. “I’m great, hon. Don’t worry about me.”

Holster resolves to pay closer attention to Bitty from here on out. He’ll get Ransom to add a new column to the spreadsheet.

 

***

 

A week later, they’re crowded around the Haus television, watching the Falcs play the Lightning — the Falcs already clinched their spot in the postseason, but there’s no way they’re going to miss watching Jack kick some Tampa Bay ass — when Ransom clicks his tongue and tilts Bitty’s head toward the light. “Dude, this rash isn’t getting any better,” he comments. “In fact, it seems to be getting worse.”

Bitty slap Ransom’s hands away. “Lord, I’m _fine_. Quit fretting over me!”

“It’s spread to your neck!” Holster exclaims. Bitty touches his neck and turns pink. Well, pinker, since the rash is already making him a bit pink.

“You want some ointment?” Ransom asks. “I could get you some ointment.”

“I think there’s some athlete’s foot stuff in our bathroom,” Dex adds.

“I don’t have athlete’s foot on my neck! How would that even happen?”

“I dunno, man, the showers at Faber are pretty grody.”

“Would it be called athlete’s _neck_?” Nursey wonders aloud.

“Hush,” Bitty says, gesturing toward the TV. “The game is back on.”

“Dude,” Holster yells as they show a close-up of Jack on the bench, chatting to Tater. “Check out Zimmboni’s playoff beard! Looking good, my man.”

Nursey whistles at the screen and Chowder exclaims something about how he wishes he could grow facial hair like Jack’s. Ransom elbows Bitty, who is looking at the television with a glazed expression. Probably worrying about his French test.

“Doesn’t he look good?” Ransom asks Bitty.

“Huh?” Bitty rubs his neck. “Oh! Um, yes, he looks very… hairy. On his face… area.”

Holster surreptitiously texts Ransom telling him to help Bitty study for his French exam.

 

***

 

One day they make major headway in figuring out Bitty’s problem.

“You know, the rash is always worst just after your trips to the city,” Ransom remarks.

“What?” Bitty looks surprised. “No! I mean, I don’t think that’s true. That can’t be right.”

Holster suddenly has a brilliant thought. “Bro! Maybe you’re allergic to Amtrak!”

Bitty looks baffled, then relieved. Probably because Holster has finally solved the problem. “You know, that must be it. Must be whatever cleaner they use on their seats.”

 

***

 

“Bitty! It’s spread to your thighs!” Ransom shouts one day in the locker room. Everyone turns to look at Bitty, who is wearing a t-shirt and briefs and looks like he wants to crawl into his locker to hide.

“Justin Oluransi!” Bitty shouts, high-pitched. “Why were you looking at my thighs in the first place?!”

“I’m just worried about you, Bits,” Ransom says, hanging his head.

Bitty sighs and puts a hand on Ransom’s arm. “It’s okay, Ransom. I know you’re just being a good captain.” He turns and gestures to the room at large. “But can y’all _please_ let it be? I’m fine.”

There are murmured assents and Bitty turns back to his locker with an under-his-breath “honestly!”

 

***

 

Jack gets them all tickets to game three of the semifinals, so they pile into Lardo’s truck and head for Providence. They shout themselves hoarse (and Shitty nearly spills a beer on his “YO MARRY ME JACK ZIMMERMANN” sign) as the Falcs coast to a 4-1 win, and afterward they find Jack in the locker room and tackle-hug him into the lockers. When Holster pulls away, his face scrapes against Jack’s.

“Bro, your beard is crazy scratchy,” Holster says, rubbing his cheek. “I’m gonna be all itchy now.”

“Sorry,” Jack says.

“Nah, man, it’s all good. You gotta grow the beard.”

 

***

 

The Falcs lose the conference final in 5 games, which is a major bummer, but it means that Jack is able to come to graduation. Ransom and Holster find him after the ceremony, standing around chatting with Bitty and Lardo while the frogs stare up at him like he’s Jesus.

Jack gives the two of them a hug and congratulates them on making it through the year. Holster punches him in the shoulder.

“Sad to see the beard go, man. You looked fucking rugged with that thing.”

Jack rubs his chin self-consciously. “Oh. Yeah. It was time for it to go. It was kind of annoying.” He glances at Bitty, almost like he expects Bitty to agree, even though Bitty has never been able to grow more than peach fuzz.

Come to think of it… “Hey!” Holster exclaims, pointing at Bitty. “Your rash went away!”

“Seriously?” Lardo asks, giving Ransom and Holster an exasperated look.

“What?” Ransom says. “It’s gone!”

Lardo turns to Bitty and they have what appears to be a long, silent conversation using only their eyes. Eventually she sighs and turns back to them.

“It’s just funny that you’re still acting like captains even though you passed the C off weeks ago.”

“Once a captain, always a captain,” Holster says, fist-bumping Ransom. “Isn’t that right, Jack?”

Bitty smiles up at Jack, probably because he’s excited to inherit the C.

“Yeah, of course,” Jack says.

Ransom and Holster are so on top of things they’re practically in the jetstream. They’re the best captains ever.

 


End file.
